


Can't Hurt You Anymore

by despattillo



Series: Ficlets [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Comfort, Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Torture, Its implied, M/M, also this isnt especially indicative of jeremwood but uh, battle buddies, nothing Happens in the fic but its implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despattillo/pseuds/despattillo
Summary: from this prompt on tumblr: "Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore."or, Jeremy finds Ryan on the bathroom floor





	Can't Hurt You Anymore

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Jeremy was kneeling over Ryan, voice gentle as he searched Ryan’s tear-streaked face. The older man was curled on the bathroom floor, his eyes glued to the empty doorway and his knuckles white from gripping the handle of a gun. 

Jeremy knew better than to put his hands on Ryan- especially when he was armed and teetering on the edge of a breakdown- so instead he sat down next to Ryan, making sure to stay in Ryan’s line of view as he settled back against the bathtub.

When he had first joined the Fakes, Jeremy had steered clear of the sinister _Vagabond_ , opting to preserve his life for as long as possible, lest he do something to piss the guy off. It had taken months for Ryan to start talking to Jeremy, and even longer for him to trust Jeremy. After spending nearly a year with the Fakes, Ryan and Jeremy had learned to get along- becoming one of the most vicious and lucrative teams in Los Santos. 

Jeremy was used to seeing Ryan as ‘The Vagabond-’ a killer whose mask never slipped- but lately, Jeremy had been given the privilege to see Ryan without the facade.

The two had been getting on surprisingly well- with Ryan inviting Jeremy out on dinner runs and Jeremy pestering him to ‘come check out this game-’ falling easily into the familiarity of each other’s company.

Funny how a few days can change all of that.

Ryan had gone missing- vanished- and despite the mass of people that the Fakes had had looking for him, there was no sign of him. Jeremy had panicked the whole time; he knew Ryan was capable, but for him to just up and leave the crew without telling them? Something was wrong.

Five days later, Ryan stumbled through the elevator doors of the penthouse covered in blood-soaked bandages. He shoved his way past the crew’s bewildered questions and outstretched hands, shutting himself in his room with the deafening _click_ of his door being locked.

Jeremy had sulked for a few hours- feeling betrayed that Ryan hadn’t asked him for help, and then feeling guilty for prioritizing his feelings above Ryan’s injuries- his conscience warring between going to check on Ryan and giving him space to recover.

In the end, concern won out. Jeremy quietly removed himself from the rest of the crew’s bickering over Ryan and went to knock gently on the older man’s door. When there was no response, Jeremy picked the lock and closed the door behind him, making his way to Ryan’s private bathroom where light spilled softly from the open door.

It was there that Jeremy found Ryan crumpled on the floor, aiming his gun steadily at the doorway where Jeremy stood. Ryan didn’t shoot, didn’t react in any way to Jeremy’s presence- and now, it was his job to pull Ryan back to himself.

“Ryan? Hey, buddy,” Jeremy began, voice barely above a whisper. Ryan didn’t look at him, or even acknowledge his speech, but Jeremy continued anyway. “I’m glad you’re back. We all are. Whatever happened to you out there-” Jeremy paused, looking for any sign of emotion on Ryan’s face. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, you’re safe, and we aren’t gonna let anything happen to you.” The younger man hesitated, not sure if his talking was doing any good.

“While you were gone, I- I didn’t know what to do. I missed you, Ryan. I think we make a good team- ‘battle buddies’- ya know? Without you, I’d just be some orange and purple fuck stealing cars.” Jeremy chuckled awkwardly, well aware that he was rambling, but wanted desperately to fill the silence between them. “You have so much _presence_ , Ryan. I don’t know if you see it, but I sure as hell do.”

Jeremy thought back to the first time he’d seen Ryan- not from the grainy footage of a robbery, but in person- how Ryan had _strutted_ into the penthouse, instantly drawing the attention of the rest of the crew. Ryan had locked eyes with Jeremy- a then relative stranger who was sprawled across one end of the couch- holding his gaze for a few unblinking seconds before inclining his head slightly and heading into the kitchen. Those few seconds had cemented Ryan’s position of authority, and a glance around at the rest of the crew showed that they were equally enraptured by Ryan.

The man on the floor in front of him now still had that commanding presence, that effect of moths to a flame. Even with bruises strewn across his body and dirty red strips of cloth wrapped around his limbs, Ryan had power radiating from him. He held the team together, he held _Jeremy_ together, and Jeremy would be damned if he wasn’t gonna try and hold Ryan together.

“Ry,” Jeremy said, voice low and gravelly, “we need you. I need you. I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t need to know, but- but you’re here _now_. If you think I’m gonna let any more fuckin’ bastards get their hands on you, you’re wrong.” The younger man meant every word he said- Ryan had become an all encompassing part of his life.

Ryan’s hand trembled.

Or at least, Jeremy thought it did, and that was enough. Slowly, Jeremy reached across the space between them to tug the gun out of Ryan’s grasp- the older man didn’t resist, he simply let his arm fall away from it. Jeremy set the gun getly on the floor next to them, the metal of it sounding softly against the tile.

“C’mere, Ry,” Jeremy murmerd, wrapping his arms around Ryan and pulling him close. Ryan heaved a great, shuddering breath and leaned his full weight onto Jeremy, burying his face in the crook of the younger man’s neck. Ryan was shaking, one hand clutching the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt to stay grounded. A soft smile played on Jeremy’s lips- Ryan was going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me/send a request @ pouttillo on tumblr!


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